


Midnight Buzz

by FernwehFinch



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, Barista France, Booty Call, Bottom France, College Student England, Developing Relationship, Dirty Talk, Fluff and Smut, FrUK, Hetalia Countries Using Human Names, M/M, Porn With Plot, Seme England, Sexting, Top England, Uke France, blowjob, ukfr - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 10:40:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19355356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FernwehFinch/pseuds/FernwehFinch
Summary: Arthur's infatuation with barista, and convenient - though unconventional - companion, Francis rouses him from the comfort of his own dorm on a Friday night to accept an unexpected invitation.





	1. An Unexpected Notification

Arthur laid on his stomach, giving a groan into his pillow as he heard his phone buzz on the end table beside him. It was midnight, he was in bed for a good reason.

He laid there, with a tousled mess of dirty-blond hair in comfort under his navy blue duvet cover. Warm in his gray sweatpants and simple white t-shirt, he contemplated whether or not to just try to go back to sleep or respond to the text.

It was Friday night, he didn't go out or communicate with anybody because he wanted to spend the night in. He had work to catch up on - how was he supposed to do good in his major and graduate if he held the education he was paying for as a second priority? He couldn't fathom the fact that he had classmates, blowing their money or their scholarships, to just go out and party. The idea absolutely infuriated him.

He heard his phone vibrate a second time, giving into an annoyed grunt and struggling to rotate onto his back under the cover. Arthur mumbled to himself as he recklessly reached over for his device, expecting to see a message from his roommate or one of his friends asking for a ride back to the dorms. He didn't drink due to poor alcohol tolerance, but because of personal preference. His hatred for hangovers exceeded his distaste for many other things, so most of the time, he was the involuntary elected sober driver for his companions on a night out.

Turning on his phone, his eyes struggled to adjust to the bright light of the screen. He expected to see a message from his roommate, Berwald, or a spam of drunk messages from his close friend, Lukas; but was instead looking at a text notification from Francis.

Arthur hesitated, and simply looked at the notification for a few moments. Francis had no reason to text him, let alone at such an hour. Most of their conversations were about Arthur asking him what time his shift started, so he could get coffee and complain to him before the morning rush of caffeine dependent students came clambering in.

Francis was a barista at a cheap, convenient coffee stop right by the college campus. Arthur frequented there often, usually being there right when the establishment opened at 6:30, and gradually became accustomed to the common faces in the building.

The first few times he ordered his coffee, the baristas kept making it wrong, till Francis suddenly took over the earliest shift. His coffees were easily brewed to near perfection; saying it made Arthur’s mornings easier would be an understatement.

Arthur would sit in the corner, away from the window, per usual till 7:40; nursing off his tall to-go cup and working on any assignments he had to finish that day via his computer. He would have his earbuds in till around 6:50, then take them out and work in efficient silence. Though this was routine to him, the routine must have seemed odd to witness.


	2. Observations to Conversation

“Do you enjoy doing that? Just... Following a mental schedule, every single morning you come in here?”

Arthur looked up in subtle shock, trying to process the sound of the foreign and unfamiliar voice. He looked up from his laptop screen, and saw the man that always fixed his coffee cleaning a counter and peering over at him.

He paused, unsure if he heard the man correctly, and slowly turned his head to look around the room and make sure there wasn't any other person in the area that he could be talking to.

Arthur heard a laugh come from the barista, looking over with lifted eyebrows and seeing a pleasant smile on the other man. He was about to speak, but was cut off by another social prod. 

“There isn't anybody else for me to talk to. I thought you would have recognized that.. You're usually the only other person here till 7:30.” 

Arthur listened, watching as the slim man turned his back towards him and kept cleaning his work station. About to speak at the introduction of a brief silence; he was cut off, by yet another rambling cue from his - apparently - very social conversation partner. 

“I mean, you come in maybe five minutes once we open, every single day. I barely have on my apron by the time you order - and it’s always the same as usual. It's not that hard to remember a tall, iced caramel mocha, with extra syrup for the brooding, anti-social, journalism major that sits away from the sunlight each morning.”

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows, finding it being far too early to be so confused and boggled by a coffee maker. He didn't even know this guy for anything else other than his name; how was Francis able to learn so much about him over the course of a few weeks, with no communication? 

His tone wasn't teasing or harsh, either. If anything, the fond and gentle conversation directed his way wasn’t as bothersome as he expected. The voice from a few feet away worked as a kind “wake up” from his dazed state of waiting till the caffeine kicked into his system.

Arthur watched, noting how the barista was animated. He spoke with his hands when he wasn't using a rag to polish and clean the tiled tops of the counters, and had his shaggy shoulder length hair pulled into a ponytail at the bottom of his skull. 

“How do you know I'm in journalism?”

Arthur bored his eyes into the figure in front of him, analyzing the back of his head and torso while he moved. Quickly, he grew suspicious; which was only increased by hearing a small laugh erupt from Francis.

“Oh, so he speaks. That's good to hear.”

Francis turned back around, flashing Arthur a rather happy smile. He walked back behind the counter and tucked the rag away, getting his water bottle and drinking out of it as he sat on a bar stool. The small silence was used for him to collect his thoughts, speaking just in time to prevent an awkward drawl.

“You left a napkin on the table once, and it had an email written on it. Trust me when I say I'm not the nosy type, but I went to throw it away when I saw you wouldn't be coming back. I noticed it was the email to one of the professors on campus, that does a lot of lectures on the subject. It wasn't difficult to put two and two together. Plus, the major seems to suit you.”

Arthur paused, a bit impressed to hear that the remark wasn't just a half-assed segway to talk, and that Francis actually observed that information about him. He stared at him for a few moments, giving into a small nod and taking a sip from his cold beverage.

“You're right… I thought I tucked that napkin in my pocket, and that I threw it away somewhere else.”

Francis chuckled, crossing his left leg over his right knee and shaking his head with an air of contentment.

“Well, you thought wrong. But, to be fair, I would have most likely thought the same.”

Arthur thought about the situation for a few moments longer and nodded, taking a sip of his coffee and sitting up a little straighter against the wooden chair. He stared at Francis, analyzing his face while he drank.

The man’s blonde hair was already falling from his ponytail, leaving small strands of blonde curls framing his face. Francis had an oval shaped face, with high cheekbones and a defining jaw. His thin eyebrows hung above observant, inspecting blueish-gray hued eyes; and lead to a narrow, hooked nose, with an unnatural hump at the bridge. His lips were slightly plump, making for a flattering smile with natural, straight teeth. Arthur maintained his gaze as he pursed his lips back, thinking pensively.

“And… Brooding, or anti-social, as well? I know I didn't write those words anywhere for you to pick up.”

“Ah, well, I guess you can say those were simple assumptions. It was either you hated people, or you felt so egotistical and prideful of yourself that you isolated from others with the idea they're lesser than you.”

Arthur quirked an eyebrow at Francis, silently pressing for more to be explained. The two met eyes, and he watched as the other male gave into a small sigh and grinned.

“... You don't seem to have a large ego. Hating people, yes, seemed plausible - but I figured you just might not be a morning person.”

Arthur gave into a small huff of a laugh and nodded, putting his drink back down on a coaster. This barista might have found out quite a bit of him, despite not ever holding a conversation. 

“I'm not a fan of waking up, people are just fine.”

“That's good to hear.”

The talk died down into comfortable silence. Arthur looked back at his laptop screen, feeling a bizarre sense of satisfaction over the chat. He felt it was odd, but nice, to hold such a conversation with Francis.

His gestures and ways of speaking were friendly and inviting. Despite being direct and to the point, Arthur saw it as kind. The man didn't raise any warning signals or red flags to him. Francis seemed honest, and observant, if anything. Charming, as well. 

He glanced down to the clock on his screen and saw it was only 7:00, which meant that he would probably have the next half hour to talk to this intriguing character of a barista. 

Arthur closed his laptop gently and leaned over, putting it in his backpack and taking it off the chair across from him. He glanced up in the process, and noticed Francis was watching with an aware and questioning gaze. Maybe Arthur wasn’t the only one that didn’t like going against routine.

“What? We have around thirty minutes till any other soul enters this building, and I'm pretty sure you're not some weird stalker posing as an employee to watch me. Would it hurt your job performance that much to sit and talk for awhile?”

The warm, welcoming smile graced on Francis’ face made his chest tighten. 

“No, no it wouldn't. I would love to… Er, what was your name? I don't think I ever caught it.”

Francis walked over, clad in a fitting white button up and blue jeans, undoing the bow that held his black apron around his hips and putting it on the back of the chair while he sat. 

Arthur held his hand out, giving a proper introduction to the other man. He put one arm over the back of his seat, feeling a bit smug. Francis seemed to be a catch, and he hoped that there was more to him than just a handsome face. He was willing to bet that there was more to his personality than aware, observant tendencies. Plus, who was he to eliminate the possibility that Francis was trying to pick up more on him because he was drawn in? If he could alone handle Arthur when he looked like a corpse in a college hoodie, with dark eyes and steel barbells in his ears, and even go as far to strike up a conversation; he already passed some feat.

“Well, I never threw, and you never asked when you made my coffees.”

Arthur watched as Francis faulted, seeing the slate colored eyes widen, and witnessing as embarrassment began to slowly chill over the man. Was he as invested in Arthur as he seemed to be?

“Did I? Oh, oh wow, I…”

“Arthur Kirkland. And it isn't that important - even if I did tell you, I would have forgot. I can't seem to remember anything before 7:00.”

The sound of Francis’ laugh graced his ears, and the dimpling smile that occurred took Arthur’s attention immediately. Up close, he was now aware of small freckles spotted on the side of his cheeks and jaw.

“Oh, well I suppose I am the same. But, still, I should at least remember proper serving manners - especially to one of my regulars. My name is-”

“Francis, I know.”

The look of pure confusion and surprise made Arthur stifle a laugh, fighting a grin and masking it with a drink of his coffee. He propped an elbow up on the table and pointed to the other’s name tag.

Francis looked down, uttering a quiet “Oh.” as he started to smile. He turned his head up and stared across the table, giving into a good natured chuckle.

“I forget I have that on, I should probably be more aware of that now. It's wonderful to finally make your acquaintance, Arthur Kirkland.”

“Arthur. Please, Arthur is just fine, Francis.”


	3. Dancing Eyes, Bright Smiles

Francis added a change to that routine. He became pleasant, useful company; and at first, Arthur was a little bit scared about that. But with them only hanging out at the coffee shop, and not having any other obligations together, he did find comfort in knowing that he had dispensability on his side if he wanted to make a sudden exit.

Arthur wasn’t like that, though. But with a developing closeness, he felt himself growing more and more attached to Francis; and that horrified him. He was scared of his kind actions having harsh consequences, and he was trying to keep things strictly platonic. But, deep down, he knew he really did want more with his favorite barista.

Francis sat down with him more frequently, and even fixed himself his own coffee a few times during his shift. They would talk, and laugh, and smile in total contentment over conversation. There was a sense of domestic peace to Arthur. He declared that his mornings weren’t true mornings without Francis to admire in front of him as he drank his cold coffee.

Through their conversations, silence was more than welcomed. When the quiet would dawn upon them, it was content, but there was electricity in the air during it. That feeling of attraction and suspense made Arthur's heart pound.

He would look across the table when he thought Francis wasn't looking, and they'd meet eyes. Bright smiles would creep onto their faces as eyes danced across the face across them, observing and indulging in any aspect they could find in the other.

It was exhilarating, the silence brought on a feeling of natural draw and desire. It was wonderful and addictive, yet also absolutely terrifying, all at once. 

It started when Francis let his eyes wander down to Arthur’s lips, grinning warmly when he saw the flesh part into a smile. Arthur was lucky that his gaze was so focused on his grin, that the growing heat to his face was ignored. Or, so he believed. 

Then, Francis started to use his phone, checking his texts and emails. Unbeknownst to him, he was avidly being admired across the table. He didn't notice for a day; but the very next, he looked up because of a flickering light, and saw Arthur with the most dazed and attentive expression on his face. Eyes drawn to his mouth, brows gently furrowed out of thought; mouth pursed as he bit on his lower lip. 

Francis suppressed a flattered smile, utterly surprised by the intimate expression he found by mistake on his companions face. He stared at Arthur’s eyes, gaze dancing across his face for some form of response, holding his breath. How could he have possibly missed out on such a view?

It took Arthur a concerning amount of time to process the changed smile, eyes lazily taking their time to travel up to see Francis in full, feeling no need to rush his indulgence in such a sight. Meeting eyes, he tensed immediately, but caught on just as quick; refusing to let it show. 

The gaze held by the two was pure lightning and electricity, if it had any way of being captured by an exchange of looks. 

The feelings Arthur bared for Francis only remained, and strengthened, through the anticipation and hope for more moments like the exhilarating conversation through only eyes. So much was conveyed, but so little was said; it drove Arthur mad.

Which is why he was simply staring at the text notifications, past midnight, from Francis, in complete shock.

What could Francis, the man of his current unexpressed affections, want at this hour? Arthur quickly thought of numerous events that could transpire over a few messages, and though each and every one pleased his longing for the other man; they all also brought a sense of concern.

He gave into a sigh and reached a hand up, pushing his hair back, as he unlocked his phone and read the two messages received from “francis.”


	4. Invitation and Confirmation (M)

“I know there's no reason for you to be up right now, but you're all that's on my mind.  
There's the slightest, smallest chance that you could be up.. And that you're alone… And that you're reading these messages I'm sending you. Could you come over? Now, soon? Please?”

Arthur’s hand stilled as he stroked his hair back. Eyes wide, he blinked a few times and held strands of his current dirty-blonde mess out of his sight.

He scrolled up through his chats with Francis, and saw the ones from the day before remained. He held down on the two messages sent and, to give an answer to his doubts, saw they were - as a matter of fact - real texts from him.

Arthur read over the messages and swallowed harshly, trying to think of what to reply with. Thumbs slowly giving into a few letters, his motions paused suddenly. What if those messages weren't for him?

The very thought made his stomach turn. He closed his eyes and bit his lip, tossing his phone down on his stomach and pushing his head back against his pillow. He covered his eyes with his hand and took a deep breath.

“Shit… Fuck, what the hell am I supposed to respond to that?”

His gruff voice came as a slight surprise to his own ears, but his mind was quickly being woken up through stressful thoughts. At first, receiving those messages was some God-sent sign to appeal to his undeniable desperation for Francis; but now, he was sure the texts were sent from hell directly. 

He felt his phone buzz against his stomach, and put his palms flat against his forehead, staring up at his ceiling at a loss. A second vibration followed, making him anxious. In a fit haste of fear, he reached for his phone and held it in front of his eyes, chewing his lip roughly.

“Arthur? My phone shows you read my previous messages.. I still stand by my invitation.  
If you want to decline, then say so, I'd rather know than have nothing to figure off of. It's rude to leave a text unresponded to.”

He used his name. Arthur felt a chill run down his spine. This was reality, Francis was actually responding and messaging him with full awareness and intent. He laid down stiff, typing a response out with speed that he was slightly ashamed of.

“I’m up, couldn't sleep. Do you need anything right now, Francis? This text is rather out of the blue.”

A text was sent back to his only moments later, Francis must have had their chat opened while waiting. Arthur read eagerly.

“I know it is. I also know you probably think I'll forget these later, and that I'm drunk right now, but I'm not.  
I'm sober and wide awake. I couldn't get myself to sleep, and I know trying to drink my way to it would only make me do things I regret.  
I want you, Arthur. I mean it earnestly.”

Arthur froze, reading over the messages a couple times to ensure that he wasn't hallucinating. The last line instantly made his face heat up immediately, fumbling with the keys as he tried to reply.

“How far do you live off campus?”

“Will you be coming over?”

Arthur stared at the text, long and hard, then staring at his dresser. He bit his lip, mentally planning out what to do. He knew he couldn't go see Francis in his pajamas, and he had a pair of jeans and a jacket of his easily on hand… He also needed an excuse to break into his favorite bottle of cologne, as well.

Well, if Francis was offering, he could have some fun with this. 

“Maybe. If the terms seem agreeable, and if I don't feel tempted to just put my phone on silent and go back to sleep.”

After the text was sent through, he wondered if Francis understood he was teasing. He had hoped the two knew each other well enough now to detect those differences. 

“Are you certain putting your phone down will stop me? The next time you’d get on it, you would just be bombarded with voicemails and calls and photos from me. I don't quit easy, and you know.”

Arthur found himself giving into a small, sensual smile at what Francis was insinuating. He was very, very glad the other knew exactly what he was trying to do.

“Photos? Care to send me a reference for what I expect to see?”

“Oh, I don't know.. What should I be expecting if I do send them? For all I know, you might just save them and share them around, leaving me high and dry.   
And, if that happens, I'll just let you know right now that I won't be making your coffees when you come in anymore.”

“Not even a sample?  
Some further incentive to not disappoint would do a world of good for you, Francis, I'd make it worth your while.  
And does it really seem like I’d share pictures around? I don't have anyone to share them to, and I have no desire to show anybody else what they're missing out on ;-)”

Arthur wasn't one for sending smiles when he texted, but this was probably one of the few situations where it would be deemed appropriate. Francis didn't respond right away, so he read over the previous messages, sitting up against his headboard and letting his mind wander. He would be lying if he said he wasn't getting aroused over where this conversation would be heading.

He practically felt his breath be ripped away from him when he got informed that Francis had sent a photo. 

He scrolled down and clicked on the image in full, letting his eyes scan over the photo of Francis’ mouth. Chin propped down and lips curved up, mouth opened wide and narrow. The freckles across his jaw and cheeks could be seen by the warm light of a turned-on lamp, also showing off bare shoulders and chest. 

“These lips could be making their way all over your body. Across your neck, to your chest, slowly lingering down to the band of your pants.  
I'd have no issue being on my knees for you. Holding your hips, looking up through messy hair to see you.  
Moaning your name.”

Arthur took a deep breath and sighed it out; the visual was more than welcomed and appreciated. Thinking it was one thing, but knowing the chance that it could actually happen is another. He started to smile as he typed.

“Where do you live, exactly?”

Francis sent a link through the default traveling app, holding directions to his apartment complex a couple miles away from campus.

“Third floor, room 147.  
Was that all you needed to be convinced?”

“I didn't realize how far that was till now, I’ve became uncertain.”

“What, do you want me to beg?  
… I will, just not over text.  
The least I ask is that you drive here, I'll settle everything else for you.  
This could be all for you, if you make the minimal effort of showing up to see me.”

“Begging is always welcomed, especially from that pretty mouth of yours, Francis.”

“Are you coming or not?”

Arthur sat up, giving into a small huff of a laugh as he read that text in one of Francis’ annoyed mumbles. He went to his dresser and grabbed a pair of his briefs and jeans, shucking off his sweatpants and fumbling a response.

“On my way. Should I get anything on the way there for us?”

He slipped on his jeans over his underwear and put on his sneakers, grabbing his untouched bottle of cologne and spraying it over himself. Arthur turned in front of his mirror and made sure his piercings didn't fall out of his ear as he laid down, messing with his hair and putting on his chained necklace.

“All I need is you, Arthur.” 

He grabbed the keys to his room and walked out the door, tucking his car keys in his pocket. He locked the door to his dorm and hurried down the staircase.

“I'll see you in a few. You don't have to wait up - unless you want to.”


	5. Warm Welcoming

Arthur parked his car out in the lot in front of the building, tapping his foot anxiously. He pulled down his mirror and made some last minute adjustments. Feathering his hair away from his eyes, straightening the hood of his jacket across his back, adjusting his chain - he wasn't totally satisfied, but he never seemed to be when it came to how he looked.

He sat there for a minute, taking in a deep breath and sighing it out. Arthur watched himself in the mirror, feeling doubt start to jump in his system. He put one hand on the side of his door, tilting his head and biting his lip as he winked at himself through the mirror.

Yep, that would do. He closed it against the top of his car and got out, locking the door and making his way into the complex.

He found himself making quick time up the stairs as a result of his nerves, already on the third floor and walking down the hall to the rooms. He saw room 140 and stalled, chewing his bottom lip and going to 147.

He knocked twice on the door with a snap of his wrist, turning his head down and shuffling his car keys in his pocket. Giving into a small grunt of frustration as he couldn't yank his dorm keys out to make room, the door opened suddenly and Arthur found himself pulled in.

Back against the closed door, he looked up quickly and saw Francis in front of him. He wasn't able to admire him, all he saw in the moment was the lack of space between them.

He felt Francis’ hands cup his face and pull him forward slightly, being met with a thorough and haste kiss. Their first kiss.

Arthur felt his eyes go wide, but hurried to kiss him back; hands idly up holding his cellphone and keys to his room in separate hands. He closed his eyes as he felt Francis’ hands move down from his cheeks to the sides of his neck, being pulled flush against the other body as arms locked behind his head in a quick motion.

Arthur felt awkward holding onto his items, but he didn't want to just drop them; regardless of how much he wanted to grip onto the other man. Trying to ignore the lack of contact he was initiating, he tilted his head in tune with Francis and introduced his tongue to the kiss.

They stayed there, tangled in a grip by lips, for a few moments - till Francis seperated with a deep breath. He stared at Arthur, close, and gave into a dazed smile. “Hi.”


	6. Heating Up

Arthur simply blinked as he was taken out of the kiss, eyes dancing across Francis’ face, trying to register what he was just told. He watched as Francis gently used his long fingers to grab his phone and keys out of his hands, putting them on the counter to his exposed kitchen. “.. Hey.”

With the space between them now, Arthur took the time to look Francis up and down as he put his items on the counter. He watched his exposed back with interest, letting his eyes travel down and seeing the other only clad in a pair of baggy sweatpants; blonde hair in a tousled, curly mess up to his shoulders.

Francis turned around with a vibrant smile, putting his hands behind him and holding onto the side of the counter as he inspected Arthur with an observant and careful eye. He took his time, drawing his gaze down from his hair to his shoes, then staring into his eyes with a small laugh. “Took you long enough. I was starting to think you actually were going to leave me high and dry.”

Arthur felt his chest start to flutter at the sight of Francis, shaking his head and giving into a small sigh of a laugh as he approached the other. The air in the room was content, but the electricity of it all settled below the calm surface. 

He put his hands on Francis’ hips and looked down, taking the time to appreciate the newly discovered difference in height between them. Arthur found himself smiling, seeing a difference of a few inches between him and Francis. “Why would I do that? Come on, you gave me some incentive, I would be dumb to pass up on this.” He tilted his head and looked at Francis questioningly, leaning in close and initiating another kiss. 

Before their lips met again, Francis gave into a gentle smile, giving Arthur a slow and smooth smooch; instead of a rushed one out of anticipation and excitement. He parted, palms supporting him as he moved up to sit on the counter, and then putting his hands on Arthur’s shoulders. He looked at him for a moment, trying to mask the fact his stomach felt like it was doing flips.

Francis kissed his cheek, then trailing his lips down to his jaw and neck. He left kisses generously between his words, smiling as he felt Arthur’s hands go to his hips and hold him. “I requested you, not the other way around. You had all the right to decline, Arthur. Especially if you didn't want this… For us, you know?” He wanted to address the elephant in the room, and deeply hoped Arthur knew what he meant by that. 

When he heard Arthur hum against his ear and kiss his temple, Francis assumed he knew exactly what he was saying.

“No, I want this. I… Want you, Francis. Like this.” Arthur paused, tensing slightly as he parted to stare at Francis. “Do you want this for the two of us? This kind of-” He was cut off by the feeling of soft hands cupping his cheeks and careful lips on top of his own.

“Yes. More than I can verbally express.” 

Arthur returned the touch quickly, not wanting to leave a single kiss from Francis alone and unreciprocated. He felt a small laugh from under his lips and smiled, parting briefly to glance down and hold onto the sides of Francis’ thighs; running his hands lasciviously over the coarse fabric of his sweats.

Francis was taken aback by the action, glancing down at the hands rubbing his thighs before kissing Arthur with full indiscretion. He let his hands tease and dishevel his hair as they made out, lifting his legs up and generously wrapping them loosely around the others hips. 

Francis leaned back, immensely enjoying the feeling of Arthur’s hands grabbing onto his thighs while they kissed. Suddenly, he found himself raised, and lifted off the counter. Parting with shock, he looked down and saw Arthurs hands moved to his ass, then staring up at his face and giving into a laugh as he was carried away from counter. 

Arthur grinned as he saw Francis react to his actions, chuckling as the other leaned forward and tightened his grip while peppering kisses all over his face. “Where's your bedroom, exactly? With all care, I'm not going to screw you on the couch.”

He watched with adoration as Francis parted, giving into a playful pout. The mans hands left the back of his skull and instead pulled onto the hoodie Arthur wore, legs tight around his waist now. “Why not?” He murmured, lifting his eyebrows and staring into his eyes with sexual intrigue, hands slowly going under the jacket and running down his torso.


	7. Unspoken Fantasy (M)

Arthur tensed as he felt hands slowly touch their way down his chest, instead looking around and seeing an open door through the hall. He walked towards it, pursing his lips back as Francis began to mumble in his ear and rub him under his jacket. 

He walked into the bedroom and leaned down, carefully dropping Francis onto his bed. Feeling the legs unhook from behind him, arms meek above his sides, Arthur moved back and shucked off his shoes as he took off his jacket carelessly.

Francis grinned, legs spread as he leaned up onto his elbows. He bit his lip joyously as he let his eyes wander and explore the newly exposed skin Arthur unveiled as he stripped. He watched as the jacket fell to the floor and sat up quickly, beating the other’s hands to the bottom hem of his shirt.

He sat up on his knees and smiled, keeping one hand firm against Arthur’s abdomen as the other grabbed his hand. Francis looked up to watch him as he pressed a soft kiss to the back of his palm, glancing down and giving into a slow whisper against the skin. “Allow me.”

Arthur swallowed at the gaze, mind already travelling the many other ways he could get Francis to look up at him on his knees. He kept watching his face, not faulting his stare as Francis lifted off his shirt. He raised his arms and chucked it off to the floor after, indulging in the sight of Francis kissing down the center of his torso. 

Francis let his hands settle at Arthur’s hips, planting slow and caring kisses down his stomach and abdomen to the band of his jeans. He grinned and removed one of his hands, palming the others crotch through the material of his pants, as he looked up to Arthur’s face with sensual admiration. 

“The first time I saw you, at the coffee shop, the only thing that came to mind was whether you had a girlfriend or not.”

Arthur stared, trying to understand where all this was coming from. He gave into a huff of a chuckle and smiled lightly, taking one of his hands and using it to brush Francis’ hair out of his face. Feeling the other palm and caress his crotch through his jeans wasn't quite enough yet. “Really?”

Francis nodded with a soft hum, undoing the button of his jeans and rubbing the skin of Arthur’s abdomen. “Mhm.. I've always had a thing for piercings, as well. When I saw you, I was certain you either had to have somebody, or you didn't swing.”

Arthur listened intently, working to process all the new information he had just heard; but all his conscious thought in that moment was ripped away from him as he felt Francis’ use his teeth to slowly bring down the zipper of his jeans. He licked his lips. “Did you, now?”

Francis glanced up and gave into a soft smile, nodding and letting his gaze sink down to the tent in Arthur's underwear. He let his hand stroke and fondle the developing length, biting his lip in thought.

“I was sure you didn't swing. But I was more, more than willing to suck you off behind the counter and let you fuck me on top of the corner booth, to try and change your mind.”

Arthur’s mind went blank, entranced with those images corrupting his thoughts. He looked down quickly as he felt Francis pull down his underwear and jeans, pushing them off mid-thigh, and hold onto the base of his cock while he pressed firm kisses to his head and shaft; looking straight up, with false innocent eyes and a sweet tone.

“I couldn't stop thinking about it. I loved the idea of getting you your coffee, inviting you behind the counter, and having you fuck my mouth as payment. I would have loved it - as a substitute for money from you.”

Arthur watched, trapped in some form of trance as he listened to Francis coo those filthy thoughts as he dragged his tongue across his dick. He swallowed heavily, wetting his lips and pulling his hair back a little tighter. He gave into a distracted nod, eyes fixated on the sight under him.

Francis smiled against his cock and gave into a chuckle, stroking the underside of his dick with his tongue and stroking his base with his hand.

“... Letting you cum all over my face while holding my hair back, or swallowing every drop that leaks from your tip…”

Arthur’s lips parted in a quiet gasp, hearing those words said against his cock, and feeling it be succumbed by Francis’ hot mouth. He bit his lip and observed, playing with the others hair as Francis began to suck him off.

Francis looked up and gave into a meek smile, taking in as much of the others cock as he could, eyebrows furrowing helplessly as his gaze turned wanting and willing. He put all of his attention onto Arthur’s reactions, making short transitions between smothering the others large cock with his tongue and bobbing his head; giving gentle groans whenever he felt the cock go too far back in his mouth.

Arthur chewed his bottom lip, observing as one hand maintained firm in Francis’ hair, absolutely indulging in the sight of him nose-deep, engulfed in his cock. His mind fancied the idea of fucking him at the coffee shop, having Francis pantless in his uniform against the booth; legs spread wide on his back as he pounded into the barista, face red and moans echoing through the room. 

Francis moaned against Arthur’s cock as he felt the others hand pull at his hair, tugging his head back roughly off of his dick. Looking up instantly, face heated and eyes hooded from the sudden disruption, his gaze scattered across the others face out of confusion as he panted.

Arthur removed the hand from his hair and moved back, taking off his pants and underwear fully, before hastily reintroducing contact between him and Francis by pushing him back down on the bed and standing between his spread legs.


	8. Teasing for Desperation (M)

Francis moaned as he felt his wrists tightly held above his head, feeling Arthur’s lower half being pressed against the crotch of his sweatpants. Arthur was quick to send haste kisses down his chest, grip on his wrists not faulting.

“Arthur... What's this over? Did you not like-”

“Where's your lube?”

The two made eye contact, Francis scattering his gaze across Arthur’s face in an attempt to gather any information over the sudden change. Arthur held an unwavering stare between him and Francis, waiting for a response to his gruff inquire.

“Ah.. To your right, second drawer.” Francis paused, trying to work his brain to comprehend the sudden change. “Did you not like how I was-”

Arthur let go of his wrists entirely and shook his head eagerly, going to the second drawer and grabbing the bottle of lube there. He looked into the drawer with speed, and also grabbed a condom. “No, I fucking loved it, Francis. I can say that I'll love fucking you more, though.”

Francis seemed to still, watching Arthur with wide eyes. “... Hah?” He leaned up on his elbows, watching as Arthur dropped the two items beside him on the mattress, and started to pull at the band of his sweats. 

Arthur paused and looked up, watching the other male’s sudden concern; blonde curls a disheveled mess from the pulling. He blinked, hands stopping as he held onto the band of his pants at his hips. “I'll.. Love fucking you… More?” 

For a brief moment, the hot and heavy air of the room became still and cold; electricity seeping through the walls and intruding on the sinful delights.

Francis watched, utterly confused, face turning red. “Oh.” He paused and glanced down at his lap “I… Thought you said something else, nevermind that.” 

Arthurs hands stilled at his sweatpants, blinking as he physically paused. “Francis, you're.. Ok with that, aren't you?” He tensed, looking to the side as his grip began to falter. “I thought you consented to, well, this... But I should be asking now, because we didn't have this est-”

“Arthur!” Francis leaned up, cupping the others face in his hands to stop his rambling, eyes dancing across his face. “No, no I do want this. I want to have sex with you, I consent to this.”

Arthur watched as Francis put in effort to keep him there, giving into a kind smile as he nodded. “Ok, good.” He used their closeness to give him a short kiss, then pulling off his sweatpants. “Because.. I want this. I've wanted this for a while, actually.” He put the pants on the floor and grabbed the bottle of lube, trying to lighten the mood and giving into a soft chuckle. “I was going to beg if you said otherwise, to invite me other another time you wanted me.”

Francis observed, legs spread, giving into a soft chuckle at the kind response. He wasn't expecting Arthur to ask for his consent again; he wasn't expecting to feel so touched by it, either. “Oh, begging? I always pegged you as the type, Kirkland.” When Arthur looked up, his gentle smile only grew, giving the silent cue this was only a joking statement. 

Arthur smiled openly, pouring some lube onto his fingers and leaning down to kiss Francis as he inserted them into his ass; wanting to prepare him before sex.

“The feelings mutual. I’m hoping to get you begging tonight.”

Francis smiled into the kiss while he adjusted to the pair of fingers beginning to stretch him, kissing Arthur's cheek in return. “You'll have to work hard, I don't beg easy.”

Arthur watched him, starting to pump his fingers, voice getting a bit gruff as he whispered against his lips. “Want to bet on it?”

Francis reached his hands up to play with and muse Arthur’s hair, pursing his lips back and biting his bottom lip. “Mhm.. You seem to be confident now, how are you going to get me begging, Arthur?”

Arthur gave into a bare huff of a laugh against his cheek, smiling ear to ear. “You want me to spoil for you? How’s that any fun?”

Francis found his mouth starting to open as the fingers spread and separated inside him, closing his eyes and listening to Arthur’s voice with pure investment; voice edging on a soft moan. “I want you to spoil me, not spoil for me.”

“Those who wait get rewarded.”

“If I can’t wait?”

Francis opened his eyes lazily and peered at Arthur, feeling part of him melt as he met the intimate and heavy gaze. Blown pupils in the dark room, furrowed eyebrows, parted lips. There was a rough, dominant edge to it all. Francis saw him as simple sex on legs at this point.

Arthur licked his lips and added a third digit into him, pumping his fingers with a lack of the gentle care he gave prior. He moved closer and kissed Francis’ neck, giving into a thorough bite and ravishing in the unrepressed moan he received in response.

“Then you’ll have to fuck yourself for me. Patience is a virtue, luscious, treat it as so.”

Francis pursed his lips back upon hearing the sweet name spoke against his skin, the words seeping through his bones and to his core. He decided that hearing it much, much more would be absolutely precious. The whine he released was uncontrolled.

“God, don’t threaten me like that.”

“It wasn’t a threat. Do you feel threatened by that?”

“Very.”

“Yeah? How so?”

Arthur moved back displayed a generous, though devious, smile to Francis. He thrusted his fingers deeper into the man and used his free hand to grasp onto his cock. Giving him thorough, slow, and unselfish strokes. His grin grew hearing an airy, pleased moan.

“You’re saying that like you, ah… Deserve to know.”

The witty remark Francis slipped unintentionally through his speech left Arthur in brief silence. The two formed a smothering, burning gaze - Francis found his heart quickening at the dominant and ruthless stare Arthur used to survey him. By his eyes alone, he felt absolutely ravished. Part of him assumed his meaningless phrase posed some competition to his partner.

With a simple glance down to his hand, Arthur removed his grasp from the other’s cock and instead gripped onto his thigh. He burrowed his fingers further inside his heat, and pulled Francis closer onto him with a strong grip. Using the lack of space to his advantage, he eagerly sent his lips back to the side of his neck and smothered the flesh with his mouth as he worked his fingers.

“You say that like you deserve to be pounded into the fucking matress. I have all my right to leave you like this and be on my merry way.”

“God, please don’t.”

“What was that, hm? I’m afraid I can’t hear you, baby.”

“A-Arthur..”

“I mean, it’s late, God knows what people are doing at these hours.”

Francis tilted his head back in silent invitation for Arthur, adoring the feeling of such gruff and raunchy words being muttered against him. His arms moved and loosely gripped at his shoulder blades, feeling down his back. He peeked an eye open meekly and bit his lip when he heard him speak again.

“Most people are probably getting their brains screwed out. Getting pounded into, getting absolutely fucked. Do you want that, huh? Do you want to get fucked tonight?”

Francis let out a gasp for a response, finding himself swallowing deeply at the insinuation as he began to buck down onto the intruding digits.

“Arthur, please..”

“Do you want me to fuck you, Francis? Should I just pound into that sweet ass of yours and make sure you’ll have a limp Monday morning? Or should I take it slow tonight, and savor every bit you have to offer me before I let you cum?”

“Please, please just-”

“Maybe we could go to the coffee shop early. I could spread you out on the front counter and leave you in nothing but your serving apron, pounding into you and having you scream my name.”

“Ar-”

“Or maybe against the window. Everybody would get to see that fucking whorish face you’re making right now, and watch as you get screwed into. They would get to see your gorgeous body being thrusted into against the glass, seeing that damn sinful face you make. They could hear each and every single moan you make, every single word you utter.”

“Fuck, Arthur ple-”

“They would see me fucking you senseless. They could hear you scream out my name, and turn into a begging whore - asking for me to go harder and go faster. They could all see you turn into the moaning, submissive, fucking angelic mess you are right now. Do you want that? Do you want them all to see the hickeys and bites from you are mine? Do you want everyone to know that I’m the lucky bastard who’s fortunate enough to pound into this tight ass of yours? Christ, they’d all be so jealous of me.”

“Arthur, fuck! Please just-”

“Please what?”

Francis stared at his partner earnestly, face heated and red from all the naughty imagery Arthur suggested. Grip on his back tight and unwavering, cock hard and waiting, he was embarrassed that his mind failed to form a sentence immediately once he was staring right at Arthur himself.

“Fuck me, please. Christ, screw me into the bed! Mark me up - give me a limp that will last the whole week!” Francis let a hand go and patted the duvet cover hastily before he found the condom, leaning up and tearing the wrapper as he pressed his lips to Arthur’s cheek. “Own up to what you just said, Arthur. Make me scream.”


	9. Warm Bodies to Match Warm Smiles (M)

Something inside of Arthur became shattered hearing Francis mumble hotly near his ear the way he did. Once the wrapper was broken, he was quick to take it from the other’s grasp and put it on himself. He moved Francis up against the headboard with strong, eager arms and held onto his hip. Despite the fact he was haste and more than wanting to fuck the other senseless, he inserted himself with care and watched the other’s face as guidance.

“You don’t have a shift tomorrow, right?”

Francis peeked an eye open as he played with Arthur’s hair, looking up at the other man with a small break of laughter erupting from his lips. He grew a content, dazed, and distracted smile as he admired the other. Dirty blonde hair a mess against his forehead and scalp, and dark green eyes watching him with both infatuation and recognition. The straight edge of his nose created a shadow as the moonlight shone through the cracks of the drapes, steel earrings gleaming in the light.

“If I do, I won’t be showing up. I’m planning on waking up at noon with you and having our first impromptu brunch date, really.”

Arthur observed Francis with helpless affection. Christ, he really was in too deep. His heart skipped a beat hearing the tired, raw laugh and warm smile come from his lips. The messy waves of his hair, the soul of his eyes, and the redness of his cheeks made Francis Bonnefoy look absolutely angelic in the eyes of his partner.

“Well, good. I have no protests for that. I honestly wouldn’t mind cooking in for you, if you don’t want to go out.”

Francis barely processed the growing smile he wore, focusing on Arthur’s face and voice rather than paying attention to the feeling of being filled by his cock. He bit his lip and nodded as he found himself giving into a dull chuckle, musing and playing with the other’s hair as he felt Arthur’s hips begin to thrust and sway against him.

“That sounds, ah… Absolutely.. Lovely, Arthur.”

The last reaction Arthur expected of himself was a soft and short huft of a laugh, but it was one he expressed without second thought. Tonight, he lost all questioning of his actions and stopped second guessing how he acted. Everything he did to Francis was unfiltered and honest; it felt great to see that Francis didn't mind one bit.

“You sound even better. And… You look even better than that.” Francis peered up as he heard Arthur speak, feeling his breath escape his lungs at the raw compliment, as well as feeling the other thrust inside him. “God, I know this is probably a horrible time to say so, but I think you're just fantastic, Francis.” 

Arthur pursed his lips back and stared at every other part of Francis than his eyes, hoping that his words would be brushed off if they weren't taken seriously. He softened the grip of his hands around his hips and rubbed the skin gently with his thumbs as he quickened the pace of his thrusts, looking up quickly as he felt the kind hands playing with his hair move to cup his jaw. 

Francis smoothly tilted the other’s head up with care, staring at Arthur attently through glazed eyes. Face warm, with a stare generating more heat through strong affection and appreciation, he looked into his eyes with full dedication and focus. Trying to put together words to say proved to be harder than he thought, open mouth giving into a ghostly moan as he glanced down to watch the quick drive feeding his wants. 

“Oh fuck, Arthur.. The feeling is more- much more than mutual. Christ…”

Arthur let his hands travel up to embrace Francis’ lean torso and pull him flush against his body. Planting a heavy, pure kiss to his cheek as he increased the momentum. Francis basked in the open kiss that he was given, arms tightly wrapped behind the other’s neck as he widened his legs. Eagerly turning his head, he met Arthur’s lips with a divine hunger, moaning against his lips as the was rammed into.

The room felt hot. Moans were shared between rushed, frantic kisses as limbs gripped and tugged upon one another. Francis stretched his legs out and attached them onto Arthur’s hips, hands absently gripping onto the other’s messy hair. He tilted his head back through a loud moan and whined as he felt Arthur’s mouth immediately attract to the open skin of his neck.

Mutters and murmurs removed the silence that wasn’t occupied with moans. Francis wallowed under his partner, revelling in the feeling of having his neck painted with bites and loving bruises. The sensation of having Arthur’s hard, well endowed cock driving into him made him forget his name. Hearing his low, sultry voice mumble against his skin or into his ear drove him crazy.

“My God, Francis… Fuck- fuck! How the Hell didn’t this happen sooner?”

“Arthur! Ah, ah- shit! There! There, m-more! Please, Arthur!”

Space was welcomed back between the two; Arthur moving back and plunging his cock into Francis with unrestrained need. Licking his lips and cursing as he did so, one hand gripped onto his gentle hip as the other was quick to further stimulate Francis’ dick. Stroking, rubbing, and thoroughly handling him lead to shrill moans furnishing the room. Francis gripped onto the headboard, crying out of sexual pleasure.

“Arthur! Arthur! Yes, yes! Oh fuck!”

Head swimming through heat, Francis felt his brain was fried. Only able to moan out and speak through easy syllables, Arthur was the only prominent thought. His mind was blank and dazed, with the other’s name being the only clear notion. His cock began to stir through release, spurts of cum falling over his stomach.

“God, yes! Ah- ah! Arthur!”

Lead by prominent, needy moans of his name - and being fueled by the undeniable pleasure that was the absolute consciousness of Francis overwhelmed with his cock - Arthur was besotted with viewing Francis come undone. The rushing, brash tempo only increased as he removed the hand from his cock to his thigh; supporting and holding up his leg as his thrusts became erratic.

Francis panted as he laid, tired and spent; feeling sensitivity take its toll as Arthur finished off in him. Francis peeked a weary eye open and gave into a drowsy grin, finding himself faintly chuckling as Arthur pulled out of him. He watched the man fondly, studying him with full regard.

Tying the condom and throwing it in the bin across the room, Arthur sat on the bed for a moment to catch his breath. His mind was vacant of any intellect thoughts as he could only focus on his primal necessities. Feeling the weight of the bed shift flew past him, but the gentle pair of lips that kissed his shoulder went unignored. Arthur sighed in content as he felt Francis’ merciful, compassionate hands embrace his waist.

“Do you want to stay in tomorrow, or should we go somewhere where they still serve breakfast and coffee by the time we wake up?”

Arthur felt a grin start to spread upon his cheeks as he listened to the kind words whispered against his shoulder, turning and pushing Francis’ hair out of his eyes. For a moment, the two sat beside one another, Francis sinking his face down into the comfort of Arthur’s hand stroking his cheek. The electricity shared through their gazes were absent, instead, the warmth of a growing flame was expressed.

“As long as I’ll be waking up next to you, anything will be fine, Francis.”


End file.
